


You Are Tempted

by AlexKingOfTheDamned, swimsalot



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demon Sex, M/M, Priests, Religious Guilt, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:46:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexKingOfTheDamned/pseuds/AlexKingOfTheDamned, https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimsalot/pseuds/swimsalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young priest is sent to test his faith by trying to send an incubus back to Hell. </p><p>Problem is, he doesn't have much faith. And the demon has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are Tempted

**Author's Note:**

> So this is actually inspired by this picture, unsurprisingly. http://kinomatika.tumblr.com/post/97359107736
> 
> Almost half of this was written before I realized that the priest is a legit oc of that artist, I thought he was just a doodle. But since this is "inspired by" and not "based on" I figured it would be okay!

 

Father Connor has only been an ordained priest for a few weeks when his Bishop, Bishop Walsh came to him in his chambers with his first task in the service of the church.

 

"You will go to the catacombs where the beast Ephemeras is kept and try your hand at casting him out."

 

At first Father Connor had thought his Excellency was only kidding. But when a monk had come to lead him down to the demon's cell he had known this was no joke but a test of his faith. Something he had very little of.

 

Still, he knows he must obey and see to the demands of the church. He may never have cast out a demon before, or even seen one with his own eyes, but he thinks he's seen enough in the training videos they showed in seminary to know what he's expected to do. And if he fails, his inexperience will be enough of an excuse.

 

He can only hope God loves him enough to protect him from the demon's powers.

 

The robed brother leaves him deep beneath the chapel, in a cold dark hall standing before a plain heavy wooden door, decorated only with a simple carving of the cross. He doesn't say anything, has probably taken a vow of silence, but the look he gives Connor can only be described as pitying.

 

Alone now Father Connor clutches his bible and pushes open the door, shivering as much with fear as with cold as it slowly creaks open, revealing the cell beyond.

 

He steps inside, across the grate that conceals a moat of salt holy water, relieved that the room is lit with torches and not left in eerie darkness. He can see an unmade bed and an empty food tray, a desk with a few papers and books on it and the rough stone walls that make up the circular space. What he doesn't see is the demon.

 

A voice curls like smoke through the room. “ _Hello, Daddy_.”

 

“I know you’re there!” Father Connor holds out his iron crucifix, brandishing it like a weapon and waving it around wildly in the shadows.

 

“ _So you’re the new meat?_ ” the voice is like honey, a deep, smooth rumbling bass that fills the cell from the floor up. It has an almost dreamlike quality to it, melodic and entrancing, and the priest feels lulled by it, like he wants to listen to it and obey any commands it might give.

 

Shaking his head Connor tries to keep his wits about him. He's going to need every ounce of cunning and determination he has to fight off this abomination.

 

Still, he flinches when the cell door slams shut behind him.

 

" _A little jumpy priest? Scared perhaps?_ " the sweet, smooth voice teases from the shadows.

 

Face turning red in shame the young Father fights to keep his voice even. "Come out! Show yourself devil!"

 

“Boo.”

 

Connor yelps and nearly leaps out of his skin at the voice that came with a very hot breath right at the base of his neck. He whirls around to see a very handsome and very _naked_ man standing in front of him. His skin is the color of a brick, rusty red, and glistening with sweat that seems to come natural in the sweltering prison below the Church of the Council.

 

His hair is unruly and pale yellow like drying hay, his eyes are black save for red pupils as hot as coals, the two horns that sprout from his forehead seem to be giving off heat and steam. His broad shoulders are emphasized by his tiny waist and rippling muscles, a line of almost white-blond hairs leading from where his navel would be if he wasn’t an abomination of Hell who was born of fire rather than a womb, down to the base of a very impressive penis.

 

Following the line of his leg against his will, Father Connor sees high arched feet like a cat’s, with four pointed toes, and a thin prehensile tail swishing down by his ankles. He’s never seen anything like this man before- he can’t even be called a man.

 

And he’s utterly, instantly, and wholly attracted to him. As is the nature of incubi.

 

Ephemeras gives a low chuckle like thunder, and takes a step closer to the frightened priest. His eyes widen and a grin curls his wide, fanged mouth.

 

“Oh, you’re not like the others,” his voice is a purr now. It’s hard to believe any voice could have that much rumble to it.

 

"Y-yes I am. I am a priest, like the others you've met," Connor says, brandishing both crucifix and bible to support his claim. "The only difference is I will be the one to send you back to hell where you belong!"

 

Ephemeras stalks closer. Connor takes a step back to match every step closer to him, until his back hits the stone wall behind him. He takes in a high, shaking breath as the demon reaches out and plucks both items from his hands.

 

“You- you aren’t supposed to be able to touch those!” Father Connor stammers, fright tightening his voice. “They said you wouldn’t- they said they would burn you!”

 

Ephemeras throws his horned head back with a loud, echoing laugh. “They were right. But they must have forgotten to mention the part where these items are only weapons when the wielder truly _believes_ in them. This is just a book, and this is just a cross,” he tosses both the religious items over his shoulders, and they clatter noisily to the ground. He places a palm on Connor’s chest. “The true power in those weapons comes from the man, not from the iron or the page. Surely you must have known that, Daddy?”

 

He wants to swear. But swearing will only prove the demon's point. He is not a true believer, and never has been. It's easy to believe in devils when they run rampant through the country side but much harder to believe in a higher power at the same time. He's never been one for faith in things he can not see and feel.

 

He's never seen or felt God. But he's seeing an awful lot of this demon and is inclined to believe what he says isn't some sort of trick.

 

"I can still try to send you back. There must be a way. Don't come closer!" he shouts, throwing out an arm to try to keep the demon at arms length. "By the power of the Lord I command thee away from me!"

 

Ephemeras looks down at the fingertips waggling at his chest and gives another throaty chuckle through his nose. “Oh no, you’ve defeated meee,” he whines, shriveling back in mock terror. He laughs at his own joke and disappears in a wisp of cherry-scented smoke, only to reappear beside Connor, with one elbow stretched leisurely upwards on the wall so he can lean over the priest. An utterly useless gesture when he could have just bent over two feet. “If none of the true believers could get rid of me, what makes you think _you_ can? I’ll give you this though,”

 

He leans in closer, trapping Connor between his arms. His tail coils around his ankle and starts to slide up his pant leg. “You are _cuter_ than the rest of them.” He cards a hand through the young man’s penny-colored hair and regards his seafoam eyes and flushed, freckled cheeks. He looks just like a good Catholic Irish Boy ™ should. His obvious terror is only the juicy cherry on top.

 

"Don't touch me demon!" Connor yells, trying to pull away from the beautiful, terrifying spawn of hell. This isn't right. He shouldn't be thinking about how mesmerizing the demon's eyes are, or how warm and sexual his voice is. Or what else he could do with that clever tail that's stroking his leg at this moment.

 

Ephemeras releases the priest, but it doesn’t seem to be because he asked him to. He’s rocking on his heels as he paces a few feet in front of Connor, his lips still curled up into a sweet smile. “Another point of interest,” he speaks, his voice lilted with a giggle. “How much do you actually know about Incubi? What exactly do they teach you about us in Holy Crap University?”

 

"Incubi survive on lust. They exist to inspire lust and tempt the good god-fearing people off the path of righteousness," Connor recites, remembering the textbook definition he'd been taught in seminary. "Incubi are one of the few demons that do not possess humans and have their own physical form. So they can be killed."

 

“True, all of that’s on-point,” Ephemeras croons. He disappears again, and reappears perched on the edge of his wrought iron bed, his pointed toes curled around the bars to keep his balance and his knees spread wide. “But do they teach you that Incubi are prone to change form?”

 

Disembarking from the bedpost gracefully, he sweeps closer to the priest. “We can do it at will, but it’s much more fun to let the whims of the man or woman change our shape _for_ us. We appear as what most… intrigues them. What they most desire, what they won’t admit to themselves wanting.”

 

He gives a rumbly chuckle and takes a step back to put his arms out and present himself for inspection. “And here I am in my natural state, red-skinned and _devilishly_ handsome if I do say so myself. What do you think that says about _you_ , Daddy?”

 

Nothing good, that's for sure. Is he really so corrupt that he not only desires the sinful embrace of a man but the embrace of a demon, one of the fallen? Is there any chance of redemption after being so tempted?

 

"No!" he shouts, taking another step and almost falling back against the wall. "You're lying! I will not be tempted by you."

 

“The common misconception about demons is that we lie all the time,” the incubus chides, slithering closer to the priest. “Because lying is _evil_. You should know that lying is a man’s game, not a demon’s. Why should we lie when the truth is so much more _sinful_.”

 

He grabs the back of Connor’s collar when he tries to make a break for the door, and yanks him back so he’s flush against the demon’s body. He curls one arm around the priest’s chest to hold him there and slides the palm of his other hand up the young man’s thigh.

 

“You _are_ tempted, Daddy,” he purrs into his ear, fanning scalding-hot breath down his neck. “I can _smell_ it on you.”

 

Connor can feel the heat radiating off the demon through his clothes. He can feel the strength of him in his tight grip. And most of all, he can feel the demon's impressive length pressed tight against his backside.

 

And he likes it. Oh does he like it. It's sickening how good it feels. He tries to ignore it, to focus on the fact that this is a demon that he is supposed to be exorcizing, but when Ephemeras rolls his hips he can't quite hold back a moan.

 

The demon’s lips brush his neck, he breaths out to tickle the hairs standing on end. Another low chuckle thunders through his throat and worms hot into Connor’s guts.

 

“Father!”

 

The priest’s eyes snap up to the doorway. The Bishop has thrown the door open, brandishing his own crucifix.

 

Instantly, Ephemeras hisses and backs away from Connor like he was struck by lightning. The Bishop tosses holy water, backing the incubus into a corner.

 

“Flee, Father Connor!” the Bishop roars at the shock-frozen young man.

 

Connor snaps into action and scoops up his bible and cross on his way out. He presses his heated body to the stone corridor outside, shaking with fear and anger. The Bishop re-emerges a moment later shaking his head. He takes his coat off and puts it around the shoulders of the shivering young man.

 

“I was afraid he would try to do this. Feel no shame, Father, stronger men than you have fallen to his guiles,” the Bishop says gravely, leading the jelly-legged young priest by the shoulders. “He has been with us for many years. He’s been particularly resistant to our attempts to send him back to Hell.”

 

“I’ll see you again, won’t I Daddy?” Ephemeras’ voice curls through the corridor, and Connor looks back over his shoulder to see his long, red arms stretched lazily through the barred window, his wily smirk curling his lips again.  


For almost two days Connor manages to go on with business as usual. He dedicates himself to his prayers and spends time in quiet reflection. But Ephemeras' voice manages to sneak in around the edges, whispering to him in the silence of his dormitory room. He can't stop thinking of all that that honey smooth voice and hard, strong, Hell-red body.

 

Finally it's too much. Late at night, well after everyone else is sleeping soundly in their bed, Connor creeps down the many stairs to the catacombs beneath the chapel. He tells himself he just wants to see the demon again, to remind himself of what a monster he is. Then he'll leave. He just needs to remind himself of how disgusting his desires are, and then he'll never think of him like that again.

 

He peers through the window and sees the demon lounging on his bed, tossing a ball of paper up in the air and catching it. He’s just as naked as before, it appears he’s wholly rejected the robes offered to all of the demons kept imprisoned by the church.

 

Missing the ball, it rolls across the floor. Ephemeras sighs and wisps away in smoke to reappear beside it, but then movement at the door catches his eye.

 

He stands upright and meets the startled gaze of Father Connor through the barred window. His face instantly brightens into a smile and he slinks closer to the door.

 

“Why, Daddy, back so soon?” he reaches through the window to try and beckon the retreating man closer. “What are you doing up at this _ungodly_ hour?”

 

"I came to remind myself what a monster you are." Connor spits back, staunchly refusing to come closer yet.

 

“Is that why you came back?” Ephemeras leans into the door grinning. “Is that why you’re sweating, why you’re flushing, why your heart is racing?”

 

"Y-yes. You're a demon. You are supposed to scare us good, Godfearing people." the priest says, glaring at the impiously handsome monster.

 

“You aren’t scared, Daddy,” Ephemeras whispers. “Come inside. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

 

He slips away from the door and crosses the room to his bed again, lying on his belly with his feet in the air, his tail curling against his back.

 

He should leave. He should go back to the dormitory and put the demon out of his mind. He should dedicate himself to his prayers and hope he can find enough faith that this will all fade into the background.

 

Instead Connor finds himself unlocking the cell door and crossing the saltwater threshold, his eyes locked on the beautiful incubus on the bed across from him.

 

Ephemeras is up in an instant. He circles Connor once before whisking him into his arms and gliding with him to the wall beside the door, so that if someone were to look inside they wouldn’t see them. He doesn’t want anybody to come ruin his fun with this boy a second time.

 

“How old are you?” he asks the priest, leaning in to graze his throat with the tip of his nose.

 

Connor's mouth goes dry as he tries to remember his own name, let alone his age. He can't think with Ephemeras this close. With the feeling of his hot breath against his neck and his hands on his body.

 

"I'm twenty-four. I mean twenty-three. I'm twenty-three," he says, finally regaining his voice.

 

The demon spins him around so he’s facing the wall, and grinds up against him. He inhales against his neck, drinking in the scent of his arousal and shame, grinning when the young man moans.

 

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you Daddy?” Ephemeras’ voice drops to a low growl, one of his hands cups Connor between the legs and squeezes.

 

"Yes," Connor whimpers. he knows he's hard. He knows the demon can feel how shamefully aroused he is. There's no point in trying to hide it anymore.

 

“Would you like not to be?” the incubus’ voice drops impossibly lower, like the sound of a thunderstorm, and it puddles in Connor’s belly.

 

Connor moans, knowing he shouldn't. This is sinful, it's wrong. He's fallen so far even by thinking about this. He'll never be able to come back from it if he says yes.

 

But he wants it. He wants it so much.

 

"Please," he whispers, closing his eyes and giving himself over to the wrongness of the act.

 

Ephemeras grins. This isn’t the first priest he’s corrupted, and it’s not even as great an accomplishment as tempting a man who isn’t already gay, but somehow it seems particularly sweet this time.

 

He paws at the front of Connor’s pants, prying apart his buckle and jerking down his zipper. He’s in a rush to feel the man’s skin. The poor shaking priest’s cock is already hard when he wraps his hand around it, and he presses wet fire-hot kisses to his neck, grinding hard against his backside. He soaks in the man’s lust and his own builds, spreading through his body like a tide. Tail coiling around Connor’s ankle, he begins to stroke him.

 

It feels so good. Kisses that burn like a brand, a Hell-hot hand pushing his pants out of the way to touch him so intimately. Connor is already lost in a sea of lust and they've only just begun. Why had he tried to fight this? He could have felt this good for so long and has only been denying himself.

 

"More," he demands. "Please."

 

The demon’s hand strokes faster, he sucks on the young man’s ear and breathes hotly down his neck as his moans escalate.

 

“I’m going to take you, Daddy,” Ephemeras growls. “I’m going to fill you with me and burn you with me. I’m going to tear you apart.”

 

He pulls the priest tight against his chest and slips his penis between the man’s clothed thighs to rub himself, giving him some much-needed stimulation. It’s been so many weeks since he corrupted the last priest, he’s been starving to death. He bites down on Connor’s shoulder and groans against his neck, desperate, hot, pleading.

 

"Yes, yes please!" Connor sobs, already desperate for anything the demon can give him. He's wanted this for so long and not even known it.

 

Now he knows exactly what he wants. He wants to be stripped bare by these blood red hands. He wants to be pushed naked against the hard stone wall and defiled in the worst ways he can think of. He'll get down on his knees and beg for it if he has to.

 

Ephemeras has never felt lust like this before. It’s almost overwhelming, even for him, rolling off of the priest in frantic, red-hot waves. He can’t soak it in fast enough.

 

“Oh, _boy_ , have you been repressed,” he laughs at the man, his tail comes up to curl around the waistband of his opened trousers and he pulls them down to his knees. “Did you know the nice thing about incubi is sex never hurts? You might feel it later, surely, you’ll feel the slow burn for days whenever you walk or sit down, a spike of soreness will stab you even if you _sneeze_ but I could enter you now without preparation and all you would feel is blissful fullness.”

 

"Oh, God, yes," Connor blasphemes, pressing back against Ephemeras, urging him onward. "Do it, I need to feel it."

 

“No, I won’t do that to you. You’re a sweet little virgin, you deserve the full experience,” Ephemeras smiles and licks a stripe up the priest’s neck.

 

His tail, inexplicably wet – probably due to some Hellish magic – is probing at his backside now. Connor can’t even take a stabilizing breath before it breaches him and wriggles inside.

 

Unable to breathe, the priest’s eyes widen. His tail is tapered, thin at the end, but the deeper it writhes, the wider it gets. It slithers through his belly, twisting like a screw, massaging every inch of his insides until he’s dripping wet with the demon’s own natural lubricant.

 

Weeping with pleasure, Connor pushes against Ephemeras' grip and bends over, forcing himself further onto the demon's tail. Even alone in his bed he's never touched himself like this, had no idea that it would feel so good to be filled this way.

 

He can practically feel Ephemeras' tail in his throat by now, it's so deep. He can feel it probing, twisting and writhing inside him. In its exploration it brushes against something inside him that has him gasping in bliss, his body jerking as it tries to process all these new sensations.

 

The incubus moans out loud, drunk on the priest’s lust. He feels full of it, breathing it until he’s sweating and shaking. He’s never had much self control. Whether that’s a result of his species or just because he’s not a very good person, it doesn’t matter.

 

His tail whips out of Connor, leaving him crying for more, shaking and leaning all his weight against the wall for support on his jelly legs. He looks back over his shoulder at the demon, his face is red and sweating, and he begs for it.

 

“Please, please,” he whines, locking his knees to keep upright. His nails claw at the stone wall.

 

Ephemeras is on him. He presses up to him and tears his shirt open, running his burning palms down the young man’s flat shuddering belly and tickles the sparse patch of hair in the center of his chest. His cock slots into the cleft of the priest’s backside, rubbing against him hard and hot and wet.

 

“If I accepted _that_ as begging I’d be a disgrace to the incubi name,” he rumbles in the shaking man’s ear, licking up the shell. “I know you can do better than that for me, Daddy.”

 

"God have mercy on me," Connor whimpers, shame dying his cheeks a red as bright as the demon's own. He has fallen far enough; must he disgrace himself more for this monster to be satisfied? Apparently so, but will he do it.

 

He will. They both know he will. He's already sobbing with need, his body stretched open and twitching, seeking something to fill the empty space inside him. He will do anything to get what he desires, no matter how shameful or sinful it may be.

 

"Please," he begs. "Please in the name of all that is sumptuous and sinful, please! I need more I need something inside me! F-fuck me, I beg you."

 

Ephemeras drinks the poor boy’s lust for a few seconds longer before he wraps his arms tight around his waist to pin him in place, and slides into him without a whisper of pain. Connor’s muscles spread and stretch painlessly around the wide column of pure heat that fills him up to the eyeballs.

 

At first, the priest can’t even moan. He’s so overwhelmed by the sensations that he can’t even _breathe_. His breath is suspended in his lungs, his mouth open as wide as his eyes. A choked sound escapes him finally, something caught between a cry and a gasp. He hadn't expected the quick, hard thrust into his body and it knocks the wind out of him.

 

As the demon withdraws and snaps his hips back into him in a rush, he manages to cry out, his knees going weak and buckling underneath him. He doesn't fall, caught in the fiend's embrace he stays upright while Ephemeras begins to pound into his body, overwhelming him with glorious bliss.

 

This is what he's always been told experiencing God is like. Rapture, utter euphoria. He's filled with warmth and joy; it's so sinful that he could even think to compare the two and for some reason that only makes it better.

 

The demon’s hips move quickly, they barely pull back before they’re already surging forward again. The rapid ingress and egress of flesh inside Connor’s channel has tears running down his cheeks.

 

“This is what they tell you you can’t have,” Ephemeras’ voice has taken on a new quality when he growls toothily into the priest’s throat. It’s louder, breathier, tight and quick like he’s rushing to get syllables out between his own devastating spikes of pleasure. “This is what they deprive you of, Daddy. This is what you deserve, my Priest, you’ve _earned_ this.”

 

"It's wrong." Connor argues back, because he knows it’s true. He knows giving in to temptation, to the lusts of the flesh, especially lusts so twisted and unholy, can only be wrong. But it feels so good he couldn't stop even if he wanted to.

 

"It's wrong? Should I stop then?" Ephemeras sneers, thrusting forward and stopping to pull, ever so slowly, back out of Connor.

 

"NO!" the priest shrieks, rocking back to impale himself once more on the devil's cock. "No, don't stop. Please, for the love of- of _Hell_ , don't stop."

 

Ephemeras grins. He flips them around so his back is against the wall and clutches the smaller man to him. His weight supported entirely by the demon and the flesh inside him, the demon snaps his hips again. He rocks Connor’s entire body with it, holding his chest and then his waist and then his hips, and then finally he settles on stroking the overcome man’s prick in time with his pounding thrusts.

 

“Tell me you love it,” the incubus growls, his voice gravelly and demanding. It’s not a request, it’s an order.

 

"I love it. God help me I love it! I want to feel it for days," Connor gasps, shutting his eyes so he doesn't have to see the face of the being doing this to him. If he doesn't look perhaps he can pretend he gave in only to a man, rather than condemning his soul by giving in to a demon.

 

But suddenly he’s empty. At first Connor is terrified that he offended the demon somehow, but then they’re both slipping to the ground together. He settles the shaking young man in his lap again, feeling some of the slippery lubrication ooze out of the priest and over his lower belly.

 

“Show me,” he challenges.

 

Connor whimpers but does as he's told. He lifts himself up on shaking knees and bites his lip as he reaches back to grasp the demon's cock. It's warm and slippery in his hand, covered in the Incubus' natural lubricant. He's never touched another man like this and for some reason it feels just as intimate and perfectly wrong as anything else they've done tonight.

 

Holding Epheremas' steady he lowers himself back onto that perfect cock, a low pleased groan escaping him as he's filled again.

 

He slides down until the length is fully seated inside him and stays still for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being stretched and filled to capacity. Then he begins to rock up on his knees, lifting himself up and falling back down to imitate the way Ephemeras had been thrusting into him just a few minutes before.

 

The incubus sighs and grunts quietly every time the young man drops back onto his length. He props himself up on his elbows and just watches.

 

He’s seen this a million times in his million years, but it’s always beautiful every time. Secretly, quietly, he’s always preferred men. He’s seduced hundreds of women and made love to each of them passionately, but privately he’s always favored the company of men. He could never admit this, dare he besmirch the good name of incubi, whom are supposed to be creatures of lust without discretion.

 

But there’s something about the way that men are usually more withdrawn and unwilling to admit their lust that makes watching them unravel so much more satisfying.

 

Connor’s cock bobs up and slaps Ephemeras’ belly with every sharp drop of his hips, leaving behind little clearish white droplets. His face is red from his ears to his collarbone, his lips and hairless chin are shiny with saliva, his eyes are just barely open, staring unseeingly off into the distance as the nerves in his brain short out one by one like brief fireworks.

 

Connor continues to rock, faster and fast as his pleasure mounts. His awareness of the world has slimmed down to his body and the part of Ephemeras' that is delivering these sensations.

 

He can feel something coiling up tight within him and knows any second now it will coil too tight and all of him will unfurl with it and it will be so _good_. He starts to babble, begging Ephemeras to allow him release, to give him that unraveling into sinful bliss that he so desperately craves.

 

Taking pity on the poor sweet virgin, the demon flips them over. Connor’s back is hot on the cool stone floor, and his skull is supported by one of Ephemeras’ red hands. He leans down for a brief kiss to the Priest’s lips before he grips the cobblestones with his prehensile, pointy toes, and starts to pound into him again.

 

He gives the priest exactly what he wants. He supports himself on the floor with his other hand, his tail slipping between their bodies to coil expertly around Connor’s weeping cock. His speed mounts, shaking apart the body under him without remorse.

 

“Come,” he beckons. “Come, Daddy.”

 

"Thank God!" Connor shouts as the sensations sweep him away, pulling him under a tide of bliss that has been threatening to engulf him since they began.

 

He comes, strings of pearly, white liquid shooting across his stomach as his body bucks, thrusting up and back onto Ephemeras to drive him deeper. He feels as though his entire being is shaking, his body mind and soul shuddering as he falls apart in the best way he could ever imagine.

 

The priest’s legs tighten around Ephemeras’ waist as he drinks in that last, sweltering spike of lust, and he’s gone with it. He comes snarling dangerously like a wild animal out of control, his hips pounding into the young man right through it.

 

When finally it subsides, his tensed muscles relax gradually and he sags down onto an elbow on top of the priest, breathing in the scent of his sweat and his shame. He noses the man’s pulse and kisses his Adam’s apple.

 

Still shaking Connor tries weakly to push Ephemeras away. His mind isn't all back yet but he knows kissing and cuddling is going too far. He doesn't feel affection for this demon and will not pretend he does. There will be no pretend loving here, he won't allow it. It might completely break him if he does.

 

"How long until I can walk again?" he asks, panting.

 

The incubus chuckles as he pulls out of the priest. “My dear boy, it’s _sex_ not surgery. You should be able to walk right away. But do you really want to retreat so quickly? You’ve only just arrived. I haven’t even shown you what I can do with my mouth yet.” He licks his teeth, displaying his forked tongue.

 

Connor shudders, fighting down the grin that threatens to break out across his face. His legs are still too wobbly to stand, and he certainly won't be able to make it up the stairs to the dormitory. He could fall and break his neck.

 

It'd be in his best interest to stay just a little longer.


End file.
